


Impressive, truly.

by stormthedarkcity



Series: Fictober 2018 [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormthedarkcity/pseuds/stormthedarkcity
Summary: Someone intrudes on Keerla Tabris's training.





	Impressive, truly.

Spin around, dodge the sword, kick to the knee, grab the throat, pierce through the eye. Again. Spin, dodge, kick, grab, pierce. Spin, dodge, kick, gr–

Keerla lost her footing and hit the muddy ground in a thud. “Shit.”

Her left shoulder had hit a rock. It would probably be a nasty bruise, but for now it was just sore; sore enough that she decided to drop this kind of training for today. She sheathed her two daggers and took one of the throwing knives from her belt.

Keerla didn’t use to train, per se. Her skill with her daggers simply got sharper with use, with every purse cut and every blade thrown to amuse the children in the alienage. She did now, though. Darkspawn wouldn’t just get her into trouble if she missed, they’d kill her with a single well-placed sword swing.

There was a tree, far enough that hitting it in the hazy light of dawn would be a challenge. She positioned herself, taking a deep breath out, and breathing in again.

Throw.

The blade sunk deep into the trunk, where it made a low vibrating sound.

Another knife.

_Thump_.

Keerla threw all ten of her knives, one by one, all of which hit the trunk in a neat vertical line. She gazed at them, satisfied, hands planted on her hips.

“You’re good,” said a voice on her right.

She turned around. Zevran was sitting cross-legged on a rock, looking like he’d been there for a while. He hadn’t put on the bigger pieces of his armour, instead only wearing the lighter parts. His back was very straight, each of his wrists propped on a knee and hands hanging low and unthreatening. A practiced pose, no doubt.

Keerla shrugged. “Don’t act surprised. These blades were pointing at your heart not a week ago.”

He chuckled. “Very true. Who trained you?”

She let the silence hang for a few seconds. _Never reveal anything they can use against you_. “My mother,” she finally said, judging the information inconsequential.

He made a pensive sound, looking her over carefully, wearing his ever-present smirk. “Impressive, truly.”

Keerla nodded slowly. “She was a good woman and a good fighter.” She walked to the tree and began retrieving her blades. They were firmly stuck, but she’d been fighting long enough that removing them wasn’t too much of a challenge. She put them back on her belt, their weight reassuring on her hips.

When she turned around, Zevran had gotten up. He was standing where she was just a minute ago, stretching his neck, then shoulders. “Tell me, my dear Warden,” he said, looking up at her, “would you like to train together?”

Keerla scoffed. “And let you put your dagger under my throat? Unlikely.”

Zevran bent forward until his fingertips touched the ground and stood up again, rolling his shoulders. He threw an ostensibly charming smile at her. “Someday, perhaps, then.”

“Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> How obvious is it that I have no idea how combat training works?


End file.
